No Man's Land (IC)

Across the world, across planes, across existance itself, adventurers spring forth, gathering at a simply port. Talonhawk Bay is a small town with no discernable economy. And yet the city thrives, it has been doing so for centuries. Every so often, those weary of their current life descend upon this oddity of a city, in search of something new. On this day however, a horde of beings, power emmanating off of the group has assemlbed. The people cheer them as they are marched through the streets to a waiting fleet of 10 ships, provided by the Gods themselves to carry this band, nearly a thousand strong, to a far away coast. Before the group is allowed to embark, a small gnome wearing a tattered gray soldiers outfit so worn down, the nation it heralded from could not be discerned, adressed the crowd. His features rough, his face set with hard determination and the cold stare of a being who has seen far more horrors than the onlookers wanted to imagine, he projected an aura of command, to even those mighty warriors being called together that day.

Greetings mighty saviors. I am the one tasked with getting you all to the Island, Captain Therond. This won't be an easy journey, and once we arrive, things are probably going to get a whole lot worse. But that part will be up to all of you. Just remember, my ship, my rules. Anyone who doesn't agree can swim back. Of course, then you can answer to your respective leaders on why you turned on the gnome endorced by all the Gods to get you to your location. Now I suppose I should mention the last thing. Since entering this town, and for the rest of your travels to and from the island, you no longer work for your respective religions or organizations. You are now all tasked with serving the Gatekeeper, the one destined to resolve this crisis. This means there shall bo NO infighting between you. The Gatekeeper shows no mercy towards those who get themselves distracted from the task at hand. You've all been warned. Anyways, get on a boat, and we shall make haste to the Island."

The fleet of ships sails its way into a dark and stormy sea, almost constantly pestered by storms, stong winds, and lighning. Therond shows his navigational prowess, allowing the ships to slip through the disasterous weather unharmed. Soon, the travellers find themselves aclimated to their dark surroundings. As warriors test their surroundings, they soon realize that the ships are all traveling impossibly fast (roughly 1,000 feet/round). This pace continues for well over a week, with the Captain refusing to divulge any information on when they will arive at "the island". Deep in the middle of the night of the tenth day, disaster strikes.

As the ships skin over the water, three barriers of blades, shaped in the form of crosses, appear in front of three of the boats (Boats 5,6, and 10). The destructive magical blades slice through even the magically tempered wood of the ships, disingtigrating the three vessels, and leaving the survivors cast into the sea amidst piles of driftwood. (For all those on the three vessels, this is where you begin).

The rest of the fleet is awakened to sounds of alarms as the scouts quickly relay the disaster they just experienced. The captain decides that they should continue on, and that exposing the rest of the fleet to danger to save less than a third of their numbers would be reckless and foolhardy (anyone who wishes to go back, feel free.)

The fleet travels for another day, when the clouds and storms give way to bright sunlight. Across the horizon, an island can be spotted. From the lips of the Captain, springs forth the words "No Man's Land".

The ships arrive to a very unique scene. On the coast lies a gigantic stadium, open to the oceon. A port set inside of its walls awaits the boats as they begin docking procedure. The stadium, roughly 1,000 feet in diameter, is bisected by a stone path 200 feet in the air. The tip of this path ends in a podium, the front adorned with a golden crest of a planet chained and bound by a padlock. If front of this podium, a white robed woman, glowing with a divine aura, watches the disembarking of the fleet. Once all the warriors are on land, she begins to speak.

"I am the High Priestess of the Gatekeeper, Neomi. I am here to preside over the third fleet of combined arms sent to us to battle a crisis. 20 years ago, 4 beings gathered an army in order to rise up against the powers that be on this island. These Discliple heralded a long forbidden name, and brought chaos and destruction to this land. The Gods, unwilling to devote any real resources to this problem, sent us a token force. This force of rejects from their own society met with the rebel army in battle, and with the aid of our home forces, put down this revolt. On the battlefield, their great leader, the Barbarian Kergosh was felled, though not before mortally wounding the army granted to us by our allies. The other three villians escaped into the rest of the country. It was then that a second force, this time constructed of as many elite fighting forces that could be convince to go. Led by the courageous Paladin, Aelim Bastern, they began to track down the disciples. Ella Matern was the first to be felled by this hunt. A Dark Ranger, she led the army into a deserted forest, but was soon overwhelmed by the superior tactics of Aelim.

It was about this time that a fifth Disciple rose from the ranks of the kingdom of Niceas' poverty stricken people. The most horrid of the Disciple to date, this man went around torturing innocent people, slaughtering thousands on a horrid and senseless rampage. A bard, known for using the suffering of his victims as his instrument, who merely called himself Alex. A hunt for Alex proved ineffective, but allowed the task force to come across another disciple. An old man, waiting patiently in his old chair, living in a dilapidated shack in the middle of the Meranceil wastelands. Never saying a word, he was interrogated for three years, and then executed. His serene calm still sends chills through his capters, for the man never made a sound, a facial expression, or a flinch to indicate the suffering he incurred in an attempt to discern the location of his companions.

Despite the lack of cooperation the last of the origional four Disciple responsible for the revolt, a Thief named Jamie Hrothgar, was finaly caught by Aelim as well. Trapped on the edge of the cliffs of Harnan in the Southern edge of the island, she engaged the Paladin in an epic duel, and lost. Now our forces were on the verge of victory, with only one more Disciple to defeat. The quest for Alex continued, leading his force of 100,000 loyal warriors into a mountain pass in the Eastern Kingdom of Hail. Marching through the dark passage, the force was never seen again. Alive that is. Scouts found the 100,000 men, the rear half slain by the horrid claws that were the preference of the horrid Alex. However the front half was slain by sword. And by a specific sword at that. The powerful blade weilded by none other than Aelim. How he was corrupted, we do not know, but it is now more imperative than ever to stop the Disciples.

As the hunt for Alex was underway, the last known disciple made his appearance. In the North used to be a small village named Gree. Around 10 years ago, it was discovered demolished. The last thing to come out of that village was news that an 8 year old boy was being scentenced to death for the murder of another boy. Since then, this boy has travelled the countryside, a target for bounty hunters and rightious warriors. Overcomnig all who stand in his way, he has recently come out and declared himself a Disciple. Leveling churches, military instalations, and even whole cities, this man is our greatest threat.

And so we have been sent another kind of army. Because the corruption of its leader lead to the annihilation of the previous force, we have recieved instead a group of many strong individuals, capable of acting on your own to defeat the threat. We prey for your success. I will turn you loose into our island now. Down the road is the city of Grace. There, you can get any supplies you might need. Westward, towards the center of the island will be the city of Thrakenmire. There you will find the last known location of Alex, who has been terrorizing the people in our country for some time. The exact location of the other two is not known, but Aelim is still known to be in Hail. Albedo has been said to have ventured into the militiristic nation of Thrall on the West Coast of the Island. He has been busy destroying the countries army, and has gotten it down to the point where its once fearful nieghbors, Damualt to the North, and Harbinger to the South and East, have begun plotting invasion plans.

The island is in a state of chaos now. I dearly hope that you all can bring a steady resolution to our problems. But beware the far North of the Island. A powerful Undead horde has made an appearance, its might stronger than any of the nations here on No Man's Land. It would be wise to avoid that area. Now go... and do not dissapoint."

Daidoji Ichiru's lips tighten as he hears confirmation of the destruction of three ships. After a moment, others on the ship move on, and he hears the characteristic beating of air near his head.

"Should we do something about that?"

"No. It is as the captain said. This is a mission."

"Oh?" The word is long, drawn out into a meaningful pause. "I think you just don't want to get involved because we don't know them!"

The druid peers out over the water, surveying what he can see of the floating wreckage. "That may be."

After several long moments, the sound of displaced air grows faint, leaving a man staring over a rail at the sea.

Will save or click

Originally Posted by edhelI, for one, welcome our new petunia overlords.
Originally Posted by MalumIt was a war of attrition. The players had a set amount of hit points vs. the FB who had unlimited hit points.
Originally Posted by KAnything with 'Elven' in the name does more damage.
Originally Posted by NifftI have great respect for "realism" in its natural habitat ("reality"), but I find it out of place in D&D, and on this board in particular.

A young woman in richly saturated blue and purple silks speaks. Her stature is that of a human woman, but her features are more reminiscent of the drow. Her voice holds an odd mixture of uncertainty and contempt, "We will take your words ... under advisement Neomi."

Her veiled and cloaked major domo at her side turns and addresses the others in silken tones, "Our mistress shall assess the undead threat to the north. Any of you are welcome travel with us. Otherwise, should you require assistance and have means of contact, call upon Baroness Lowryllyth and her august presence shall respond with all haste.

The boat shuddered, and there were sounds from above...screams of people on deck.

In one of the cabins was a woman clad in loose-fitting dark grey and black clothes sits crosslegged in the center of the small room with her eyes closed. A black cloth band is wrapped around her head, crossing her forehead just over her eyes. A thicker band sits higher up her head, with a metal plate set into it displaying a mystic symbol. Several pouches hang from her belt and vest, and a knapsack is slung over her shoulder. Her hair is short, thick and black, making her fair skin look pale. Her face is pretty, and would be more so if she were smiling. Instead, her expression is defined as a lack of expression, a gambler's face.

In response to the noise, she opened her eyes. Timbers creaked and shrieked as something or somethings forced their way through the thick beams and planks. Close now. No time.

Thorn placed her hands together palm to palm. Several fingers curled together, others pointed upwards, pressing against each other. Her body faded to a black and white, colorless image of itself...then faded away completely.

An instant later, a titanic blade smashed through the wall of her cabin, splitting wood with no apparent effort, and letting a tidal flood of ocean and blood in. From the ethereal plane, Thorn wasted no time watching. Her ki would hold her here only seconds before her body naturally found its way back. She sped upwards, through the ceiling up to the deck. Just one stable place...

She faded back into the material world and dropped onto a narrow pair of boards that jutted out over the rent deck as the two halves of ship started to fall apart sideways. Despite the small size and instability of her landing zone, Thorn touched down easily, knees flexing and feet crossing one another as if coming down from a gymnast's leap.

No sign of land. The other ships were moving off quickly. Her best bet was to be on one of them, before they were out of sight. She locks her eyes onto the nearest ship as it recedes, and clicks her heels together...bracing for the shock of transition.

(using boots of teleportation to zap onto the nearest still operating ship)

Whin had been on the deck in an instant when he heard they were under attack, and stayed there for about an hour after the ships continued sailing, ready in case of another. When nothing came, he relaxed... somewhat.

In those first ten days, he had managed to speak to many people, and was pleased with what he had discovered. He was, as he had automatically assumed, probably the most powerful on any of the boats, though he doubted it was good to share that information until it was required. Several of those on the other boats had been open about their power, and as a result were now swimming or floating several miles back.

The Destroyer never even considered going back for them. He knew none of them, and didn't need them, so why should he? Though he felt a small pang of guilt at the knowledge that he probably could have saved several of them, he shrugged it off. After all - If they needed saving, they weren't worth having along, were they?

When they finally arrived and received the high priestesses speech, he listened with a keen tactical interest. So these disciples were the reason he had been called. It made sense, the army around him was to take out any army raised against them, and he (And perhaps a few others, he thought looking around) would be designated with the destruction of the general. He spied Meekor standing a short distance away, and nearby happened to be one of the few men Whin had encountered that had impressed him at all. Moving easily through the crowd, he reached them as members of the "army" began expressing their own 'views' on how the situation should work."Listen to them, every one thinking that they are the one here who will turn the tide, the one who will be the 'hero'. We are not heroes, are we gentlemen? No, we were all raised to be destroyers, and that is what we are here to do. I would propose we assemble a team, gather the best troops we can find, and set out to this eastern kingdom of 'hail'. If their ex-general is there, then we shall find him, see if he has any information regarding the disciples, and then dispose of him."

OOC:
*The preceding post assumes that Whin found Meekor before the attack, and knows he wasn't on one of the boats that sank.*
And yes, Whin definitely has a superiority complex. The first time he gets shown up he's probably gonna flip out.
BTW, Compiled list of who was on what boat is in the OOC thread... Shayuri, Superninja was on one of the boats that went down

Intelligence is the capacity to understand old Ideas.
Imagination is the ability to come up with New Ideas.

Through the explosion of wood and blood that was a fast ship speeding through a blade barrier, Thorn flew up to the deck in her ethereal state. Avoiding the most recent danger, she attempts to return herself to the safety of the fleet, but finds the magic of her boots unable to do so. As her escape attempt fails, she catches the prescence of a shady figure behind her. Before she could properly act, the shadow snaps it's fingers and launches a bolt of lightning at the bewildered woman (First Ref save of the game, as well as an initiative roll if you would be so kind).

The crowd of warriors splinters into many groups after the High Priest's speach, many warriors breaking off on their own terms to descend into the unknown, while many more waited around for a sign of what to do, the rest simply watching their companions with a unique blend of curiosity and mistrust. A paladin levitates himself over the eastern most group of warriors, and begins declaring his intentions to the rest of the adventurers.

"I shall go forth and smite this evil abandoner of good. You all might as well go back home, for I am the mightiest warrior, the cream of the crop, who will defeat this menace, and it would be wasteful for any unneeded losses of life from those foolish enough to risk themselves."

As Lowryllyth's major domo addresses those around her, she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns around and sees a rougishly dressed man wearing a cape and a green hat adorned with a purple feather. Taking a quick bow, he introduces himself to the Baroness.
"I am Ludwig Vangervaul, at your service. Me and my brother would love to accompany you through the horrors and perils of the unknown." He turns back to the crowd and addresses a similarly dressed man, wearing a red feather instead, trying to talk up a pair of Dryads. "Hey Sanders! Hey... Hello... Sanders! SANDERS!!! Come on, get over here!" He faces the baroness once more. "We pledge ourselves to protect you from whatever harms may come your way!"

Meanwhile, Whin surveys the crowd. As he finds those he had recognized on his journey over, he wanders over to them. But before he reaches them, a voice rings through his head.

They are all worthless you know... I have read all of them. None of them compare to the strength you and I hold. You are the strongest one of all, the only one who outshines myself, and so it is to you that I grant my humble services. Pair with me and all your goals shall be fulfilled!

Thorn crouches and leaps, making a motion as she goes like someone drawing a curtain or cloth around herself. The air around her darkens as she concentrates the shadows of the storm around herself, and vanishes.

Landing near her assailant, cloaked in shadow, Thorn draws a short, curved blade from the horn scabbard at her side. She doesn't thrust right away, but waits for the mage to begin a spell.

(basically hiding as part of my jump, which is a move action, and delaying my standard action to interrupt mage meister.)

Meekor for the past ten days had been a quiet sort, if not standoff-ish in nature if anyone happened to bother his rest and concentration. Only a few were allowed to speak to him clamly, Whin being most promanant, and of course the captian. Meekor mainly stuck to himself seeking Boccobs guidance in what shape and form he could only to be disappointed as he would not divulge any more knowladge than was already given to him. Once arriving on shore, thankful to be off the boat and on dry land after watching what happened to the others in the boats destroyed, Meekor again saught Whin and his superiour tatical knowladge. The little priest knew if he was to survive this it would be at Whins side, and quite frankly, it's where he worked his best magics as well.

"WHIN!..... Where IS that blasted knuckled-headed destroyer! Boccob!, singe is ears with something nasty, firey perhaps?!"" Meekor utters as he cusses in about three diffrent languages. His little legs were fast for a goblin, and much more so for one in armor. The cleric of boccob he sniffed the air, and winced more than a few times, as he looked for his rather powerfull ally.